Monday, 31 August 2015

This wonderful piece of street graffiti can be found on one of the stone arches by Bradford Cathedral. It is said to be the work of an artist simply known as Mooney and depicts Sampson in chains. According to the Bradford Telegraph and Argus, last year it was "vandalised" by someone painting graffiti on top of it, but that graffiti has now been cleaned off to reveal the original graffiti. It is a strange world we live in.

Thursday, 27 August 2015

A window in the Cathedral of Saint Vitus in Prague. I have little interest in either the subject matter or the style (it looks a little Disneyish to me). It is the colours that attract me - a fandango of shades, tints and tones.

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

A short distance from Wenceslas Square in Prague is the wonderful Art Nouveau Lucerna Palace Arcade. Whilst the square boasts a monumental classical equestrian statue of King Wenceslas, the arcade has a suspended upside-down statue of the same King Wenceslas riding a dead horse. Give me the latter work - by the Czech sculptor David Cerny - any day.

Monday, 24 August 2015

Given that you might want to erect a street light, you could get a precast concrete post and stick your lights on that. Or you could drink a few pints of finest Czech pilsner, sit down with a sketchbook and sharp pencil, and let your imagination go where it will. Design it, cast it, and plant it in the grounds of Prague Castle.

Sunday, 23 August 2015

Just back from Prague - a city which is a delicious mixture of the medieval and art nouveau. It is also a city that floats on some of the finest beer in the world. I found this sign hanging outside one of the numerous bars in the old town - somehow it sums the place up.

Saturday, 15 August 2015

The Morgan Lloyd in Caernarfon has the look of an Irish Bar rather than a British pub. It's the name, I suppose - we tend to name our pubs after dead monarchs and multicoloured animals in these parts rather than landlords.

Thursday, 13 August 2015

They are a truly hospitable people, the Welsh: they always make you welcome and give endless thought to your entertainment. Where else would they build massive stone walls around a town in order to keep invaders out, but then provide the same invaders with a pub (and trust me, it was a rather splendid pub) for their relaxation at the end of a long shift on the trebuchet? (Caernarfon, August 2015).

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Caernarfon is quite a political town: there is a big granite statue of Lloyd George watching over the town square. Down a side street I found a pub called the Four Alls with an inn sign featuring four portraits - of a queen, a soldier, a parson and a local taxpayer. Above each was a suitable slogan: I rule for all, I fight for all, I pray for all, and I pay for all. At the bottom corner is a drawing of a small devil saying I take all. Discuss.

Tuesday, 11 August 2015

The British always go over the top with their theme parks. OK, you can dig a river and line it with pretty little yachts and pastel coloured houses. You can knock up a walled city with narrow streets and cobbled squares. You can even paint a backdrop featuring the Snowdonia Mountains. But an eleventh century castle complete with battlements! - oh come on. (Caernarfon Castle - August 2015)

Monday, 10 August 2015

Bangor Pier is overshadowed by the engineering achievements of Telford and Stephenson whose bridges manage to span the Menai Strait. Whilst those box and suspension bridges are fated by civil engineers the world over, little Bangor Pier crept out further and further into the straits - all cast iron, wooden planks and pagodas. It comes to an abrupt end three quarters of the way across: almost as though some horrified Council official had suddenly discovered what was happening and put a stop to it immediately.

Saturday, 8 August 2015

As they carved the year over the door you can almost imagine them thinking "this is going to be a good year, the start of a good decade". The building is in that part of Bradford known as Little Germany. Irony in stone.

Friday, 7 August 2015

Bradford is a long way from the sea. Once a school, then a home for the Sea Cadets, this building in Faversham Street is a long way from its prime. Boarded-up doors and barred windows hold back the waves of the over-inquisitive.

Thursday, 6 August 2015

The ornate gates of an animal by-products plant in Bradford. According to their website they provide disposal solutions for "bone, fat, offal and gut; hides, skins, hooves and horns; chicken feathers; and pig bristles and toenails". How poetic.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

I am not sure why this scan has turned out quite so speckled, but I don't dislike the effect. If the impressionists had all their paints taken away and been left with nothing more than a pen and a bottle of black ink, I like to think that they might have come up with something like this.

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

I have always been attracted by demolition. This is not some kind of perverted love of destruction, it is merely that, as a photographer, you are faced with a brief opportunity to record the passing of something which has often outlived countless generations of people. Such was the case with this row of terraced houses in Sheffield back in 1983.

Monday, 3 August 2015

I quite like views where lines stretch away into nothingness. Or, to be more exact, in this particular photograph, into Grimsby. If that sounds like a criticism of Grimsby it is not meant to be, I have always had a deep love of this Humberside port and a day out at Cleethorpes was always better when accompanied by a walk around Grimsby Fish Docks.

Sunday, 2 August 2015

During the 1980s I was repeatedly drawn back to the east coast resort of Cleethorpes, where I would always take the same four or five photographs including this kind of shot of the big wheel and the helter skelter. I have just checked on StreetView and they are both still there. If I can persuade the Good Lady Wife to join me on a day trip to Cleethorpes I will try to update the photograph before the end of the summer.

Saturday, 1 August 2015

When the tide goes out at Brid you are left with mud. But unlike the mud you get on a rain-soaked Yorkshire footpath, this is romantic mud; sea-salt infused, ancient mariner marinated mud. Full of worms and tales.

About Me

One time lecturer, writer on European Affairs and bus conductor, Alan Burnett now divides his time between walking the dog and a little harmless blogging. His News From Nowhere Blog has been running since 2006 and acts as a showcase for his ranting and writing and his photographs old and new.